June 13, 1812

 find my days to be either a perpetual flurry of chaos or completely the contrary and entirely devoid of any interest. It is finally silent in my house this afternoon for once in what seems like an eternity, as Aunt E has refrained from making her visit today. I am unsure whether to rejoice in this or to be wary and suspicious. I do love my aunt very much, but I find her temperament and energy and wild ideas a bit taxing at times. Not to mention the arguments recently sparked between her and my usual gentle parents. I am still very much in confusion about what is going on behind the closed doors of my father's study, and against my normal behavior of letting sleeping dogs lie, I have begun to dig for answers with the household servants. Much to my dismay, like the good loyal beings they are, they will not let slip a single word of what they hear or know, if anything. Even dearest Abigail, who has been like a sister to me these past few weeks, has said nothing to me! I believe the truth of the matter will eventually find its way to me, though I am feeling my patience wane.
The summer weather has been unseasonably miserable these past days. The sky perpetually feels as though it is weighing down upon us with thick blankets of clouds and fog. Even the bright and cheery birds of our own gardens who will normally find something to sing about have grown dull and silent. Lately I have had to escape the wretched dullness of it all in the comfortable home of my dearest sister; whose smiles and laugh cannot possibly be dimmed by a spell of poor weather. She is so happy in life now, and her husband is such an amiable and kind man. I hope that one day I will endeavor to deserve a man such as he.

Despite my best efforts against it, my curiosity about this gentleman my aunt brought up, a Doctor even, has been growing and I find myself impatient to receive some sort of response. To think of the things he must witness every day in America -such a foreign world to me. I would happily trade his place given the option. I fear I have little taste for London society these days, as more and more it has been forced heavily upon me, and without Kathryn's comforting presence at my side, I am quite lost among the people. Mama says it is only practice that will set me correct in their company, but I find her greatly mistaken. I am by far too shy and quiet to ever be at true ease among strangers.

Upon the topic of strangers, Madeline has invited me to an evening gathering at her Uncle's city estate in London. She has promised it to be a wonderful affair, full of all the people "I must know", though still an intimate gathering. Of this fact I am relieved, Madeline's familial ties far exceed mine in income and title, and if the gathering promised to be any larger I would be swallowed up entirely! Mama of course insists I go, assuring me that Mr. Brennan will be in attendance.

As perceptive as ever I believe mama has found me out in my admiration of Mr. Brennan. Mama has promised me that should I choose to go, she will have a new gown purchased for me in whatever fabrics and style I so desire. With an offer such as that, I could hardly turn it down and at once wrote off a note to Madeline assuring her of my attendance. I have chosen a trained gown of the softest and ethereal muslin with white-work embroidery of birds along the hem and up from the sleeves which I have chosen to be elbow length and straight. In addition I will add a teal blue ribbon about my waist and wreathed in my hair with pearls and flowers. She has also promised me matching gloves of teal silk! With my new attire, I am certain to catch the eye of Mr. Brennan, and perhaps even a dance, or dare I say it, two?
I can only say, I find myself quite besotted with Mr. Brennan, and oft find myself thinking, 'Dear Charles, do you ever think of me?' I can only hope that he does.